


Phone Chain

by Azure_K_Mello



Series: Scrutiny and Speculation: The Media Series [3]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Family, Injury, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 16:39:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azure_K_Mello/pseuds/Azure_K_Mello
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set six years after “Pajamas in the Keys” Clark is seriously injured while on Super business.   </p><p>Clark’s Age : 32</p><p>Note: This is the third in a series. If you haven’t read the other parts you will miss some of the references.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phone Chain

The first time Bruce opened Clark’s “Superphone” he had laughed. But later he came to understand it. He even thought about doing it himself except that when someone pulled off the cowl it was obvious that he was Bruce Wayne. Clark, with or without the glasses, looked the same. It was only low level mind control that made the difference between Clark and Superman.

Upon opening the red and blue phone, a message instantly flashed up “If I am dying please call my mother and husband” and listed off their numbers. Clark had promised Martha that if anything ever happened wherein he might die she could get to him. And Lex had demanded the same thing. Bruce had questioned what would happen if Clark lost his phone. Lex had rolled his eyes as Clark had carefully explained that he didn’t lose stuff. 

Now the phone system had come in to use. And at ten in the morning Lex was standing in a hospital in Washington DC while Clark was in a hospital bed. Looking little, and young, and hurt. And the fucking hospital officials were keeping Lex out of the room. They said he could go in when “Supe’s mom arrived” if she agreed. 

Lex had shouted, “His mother is coming in a Lex Luthor Corp. Jet! Everyone knows I’m married to Clark Kent, are you going to argue with Martha Kent when she gets here? I told her to bring his adoption papers but they say her son is Clark, are you going to argue with her? Say that, as she can’t prove that she’s Supe’s mom, she can’t go in? Supe isn’t real. Superman was made up by Clark and me, so he could have a real life.” He argued that they should let him in. What could he do? Put Superman in a coma? Oh wait, he already was. The security had told him he wasn’t helping his case. 

He pointed out that the Supercell phone Superman carried had his number programmed in. His number was listed under the title of husband. He dialed the “Superphone” and when it rang, it played You Light up My Life. None of it had convinced them. They said that he was the evil genius Lex Luthor and Lex had went with that. “Right,” he’d said. “I’m brilliant. I’m so clever that I didn’t join Mensa because I’m smart enough to realize they’re all asses. I’ve known about him since he was sixteen. Don’t you think he’d be dead if I wanted him to be? Look at the records: I’ve destroyed over four tons of Kryptonite. The first ton and a half was destroyed the day he told me.”

“Mr. Luthor, if you could just sit over there please.”

Lex shook his head and went to stand by the window. A security guard and a doctor moved with him. He looked in at Clark and asked, “Can you remove the kryptonite?”

“We’re going as fast as we can without a-”

Lex cut him up holding out a hand. “Radio-Electro Pulsar. I know. I did invent it.” He nodded grimly and called the office and said “I need the Radio-Electro Pulsar. Now. I’m in Washington DC. Thank you.” He hung up and said, “Be here in an hour.” The doctor nodded and reentered Clark’s room.

He opened his briefcase and pulled out a ratty pair of pajama pants and said, “Look, I know they’re shamefully decrepit but they’re his favorite.” He didn’t expect the guard to take them. “Test them, look for any poisons or whatever you need to do, just.” Lex bit his lip. He didn’t cry. At least, he didn’t cry in front of people who didn’t have the last names Kent or Wayne. “He needs his lucky pants. I know he can’t wear them when he’s… embedded with that crap. But if you could just get them near him.” The security guard looked at the pants dubiously. “You can do whatever tests you need,” Lex repeated.

“These are Walker Texas Ranger pants.”

Understanding Lex said, “Why do you think the post was signed Lex Luthor?”

The guy smiled and said, “Mr. Luthor, if you swear you won’t go into that room while I’m gone, I’ll give these to our lab guys right now.”

Lex nodded, “I can do that. I’ll stay right here.”

The man nodded, and left, and Lex stood, watching the window, praying Martha would get there soon. He waited, hoping that Clark would move, moan, anything to show he was alive. There were four people in white coats, pulling shards of green crystal out of Clark’s skin. 

The security guard came back and saw the Lex hadn’t moved. “It could take a while,” he said it like an apology.

“You need to be sure, that’s fine. I would say that they should be gentle with them, but that makes me look suspicious. Besides, Martha’s good with a needle, if the seams fall apart she can fix them while we wait for Clark to wake up.”

“How long have you and he been married?”

“Ten years in two weeks time.” Lex swallowed hard. 

“Lex, honey.” He turned at Martha’s voice. And then he was being enfolded in warm, strong arms. “Why aren’t you inside?”

“They won’t let me, said I had to wait for you.”

Another security guard came up. “Are you Superman’s mother?”

Looking angry and dangerous Martha said, “No, I am Clark Kent’s mother. I was always against ‘Superman’. You spend years protecting a child, making sure he’s okay, that people don’t realize he’s different, that people don’t find out you have a spaceship in the storm cellar. Then he meets Batman and decides he should be a superhero too. And, as Batman’s always depressed, he’s going to wear underwear over tights! So he goes off to college, you sew the damn outfit, then he misses a Spanish midterm because he was off stopping a lion that got out from the zoo from eating a kid. So no, I’m not Superman’s Mom.” Lex wrapped an arm around her shoulder and she seemed to calm down. Shaking slightly she opened her purse and pulled out papers. “Here’s, um, his adoption papers, here’s um, a picture of him, his dad, and me. This is him and Lex at graduation, here’s a picture of him and Lex.” In that picture he was wearing the Superman costume, he was giving a thumbs up, and Lex was laughing. She pulled out a notebook and flipped through pages. “This was the plan.”

Lex looked at the page he hadn’t seen in years. There was a sketch of Clark in the Superman persona and one of him in a poorly fitted suit and an arrow towards a pair of glasses with exclamation points afterwards. There was also a drawing of Lex wearing chaps with a lasso over his head and the words “Lex the Lassoing Lieutenant” in bold capitals and then different handwriting that said, “No, no chaps, Clark, never. Not ever.” There was a drawing of Lex in a hat that just had the caption, “Lex in a hat”. 

The security guards studied the contents of her purse for a few minutes and then said, “You can both go in. Sorry about the inconvenience, Mr. Luthor.”

Lex said nothing, kept an arm around Martha, and went into the room. Martha rushed towards the bed but Lex held her back at the last moment. “You hold him and you could further push the shards into his skin.”

Martha nodded and walked more slowly to the bed. “Clark, baby, it’s me.”

Lex went directly to the sink in the corner, scrubbed up and slid on gloves, and went to work on the soles of Clark’s feet. “Sorry if this hurts, babe,” he pulled out the shards and dropped them into a small lead container that one of the doctor’s handed him. 

After a beat Martha went to the sink and repeated the steps Lex had set down. They worked silently along side with the doctors. Twenty minutes later the Radio-Electro Pulsar arrived and they all stepped away from the bed. 

They took the most recent batch of meteor out of the room and Lex asked, “Can your furnace get high enough to clarify this?” One doctor shook his head and Lex said, “Then get it out of the building and call… I don’t know, the White House, tell them there’s a lot of Kryptonite that needs to be heated.” Lex tried to shrug off his anger. “Martha, do you want coffee?” She gave a non-committing head movement and Lex said, “I’ll get us coffee, once the machine starts we can’t be in here… coffee.”

Down the hallway he found a machine and got two cups. As he came back he saw someone handing Martha the pants and she said, “Why did they take away his lucky pants?”

“I brought them and I’m evil.” Lex handed her one of the cups of coffee and said, “Careful, it’s really hot.”

They sat next to the bed as workers set up the machine and Martha folded the pants, lifted Clark’s head gently, and placed the pants beneath his pillow. Sipping their coffee silently, Lex held Martha’s hand until they were asked to leave the room. 

As they exited his cell phone rang. “Luthor,” he answered.

“Lex?” the voice was choked. “He’s on the news. He’s –oh God, Lex.”

“Chloe, I’m here with Martha. His cover is blown. I’ll call Bruce, he can arrange a jet for you both and you’ll be here inside of two hours.”

“You’re there? Is he going to-”

“No, he’ll be okay. But it doesn’t matter right now, either it leaks that Clark’s Supe or it doesn’t. It doesn’t matter. He can get all angry at us for our indiscretion when he’s on his feet and we’ll call him sanctimonious and tell him that we won’t do this when he learns not to be seriously wounded. What you need to do is have a glass of water, Bruce will come get you from work, go back to the Manor, pack a bag, and come here. Okay?”

“Yes.”

“He’ll be okay. Try to keep your husband from threatening the pilot.” He hung up, dialed Bruce said, “Phone chain, get your wife and get down here.”

“Is he okay?” asked Bruce.

“Not yet. I was hoping this wouldn’t make it to the news.”

“Too bad, it’s everywhere.”

“Okay, we’ll see you soon.”

“Alex-”

“It’s okay, Martha’s with me. I just… get down here.”

“Soon as we can.”

Turning to Martha Lex said, “Chloe and Bruce are coming. Anyone else we should call?”

“Pete and Lana and,” she shuddered, “Lois.”

Lex shuddered. “The Rosses are in DC aren’t they?” She nodded. “Do we have to call Lois?”

“She’s Clark’s friend and yours too!” Martha nearly laughed.

“Fine, but if she tries to get a story out of this I will personally make sure no one finds her body. I’m sort of running out of rope so quickly I’m not even sure I’m going to know when I’ve reached the end of it.”

Martha raised one hand to his cheek, concerned by the poorly formed metaphor, Lex’s language was always precise, and said, “Why don’t we wait to call them? If they don’t call us before Bruce and Chloe get here then we’ll call them once your boy’s here.” 

Lex swallowed. “Is that really awful?”

“It would be a lot worse if you punched Lois in the face. Or if Pete started using your last name. And Chloe will keep them both in line. We’ll call Lois in an hour and a half, say. That way we can have sometime with Bruce and Chloe before she gets here. And we’ll call Pete and Lana twenty minutes after that. The road traffic is awful out there.”

“Is it selfish?”

“No, I think it’s necessary.”

They stood by the window, watching the Radio-Electro Pulsar pushing the shards out of Clark’s flesh. It moved eight inches an hour. It was painfully slow. It would take nine and a half hours for the machine to cover all of Clark’s body. Then he would need to be turned over and have the process repeated. Lex felt like a tightly wound spring ready to pop. He wanted to be inside, helping the machine along but he knew he couldn’t. Instead he stood, lowly reassuring Martha that everything would be okay. The process would be over by six AM. 

After about an hour she said, “When did you last eat?”

“Are you hungry? I’m sure I could order you something.”

“No, Lex, you’re shaking and clammy.”

“Oh, um, yesterday, I was eating dinner and talking to Clark as he flew over to China.”

“Lex, you need to eat something.”

“I’m fine.”

“Lex, it won’t be any use to him when you faint.”

“If I order sandwiches will you eat too?”

“Sure, I’ll eat with you.”

He nodded and phoned a place he knew and ordered enough sandwiches and salad to feed an army because he assumed people might be hungry. Afterwards he just stood silently, barely blinking, watching the machine’s slow progression. He ate a sandwich that Martha handed him automatically and without tasting it. It could have been only moments or whole hours later when he heard the strong but gentle voice saying, “Alex? Are you okay?”

He shook his head and as he turned he was caught by strong, familiar arms. He could hear Chloe, Bruce, and Martha talking somewhere distantly but he allowed himself, if only for a few seconds, to be separated completely. He concentrated on Bruce’s scent, the smell that had helped him after Julian and being sent away, kept him sane at his mother’s funeral, kept him grounded throughout much of his teenaged years. 

And finally, when he felt ready to emerge from the safety, he lifted his head and said, “It’s good to have you here. Clark will be pleased to see you once he’s awake.” 

Bruce didn’t move to release him and Lex didn’t move to be let go. “What happened?” asked Chloe. 

Lex shook his head, “He was in China for some ‘World Leader’s Summit’ and then I got a call and told he’d been admitted here. He’s encrusted with green K. Nobody here has been helpful. He was found like it apparently, and they brought him here.” 

Bruce nodded, “Have you eaten anything?” Lex nodded, pointing vaguely towards the sandwiches. “How long have you been here?”

Lex looked in askance at Martha who said, “I’ve been here six, so Lex has been here seven hours.”

“The machine’s been going about five and a half hours. Once it’s done he might be fine. He might be awake and okay.”

“If he isn’t it just means he has blood poisoning. They can put him on dialysis. He’ll be okay.” Bruce reached into his bag and pulled out a small lead box, “I have his dancing pendent, in case his skin goes Kryptonian on us.” Lex nodded but Martha voiced a question he didn’t quite catch and he heard Bruce explain, “Well, you know Clark can’t dance? It’s a blue K. pendent he used to wear when we went clubbing so that if he stepped on someone’s foot, the foot in question wouldn’t be liquidized.”

He heard Martha’s laugh at the mention of Clark’s musical ineptness. Martha told Chloe that Lois was on her way and that she’d just called Pete. Lex had been too caught up in watching Clark to notice any of that. Bruce asked him softly, “Alex, are you alright?”

“No,” he replied softly. “I don’t want him to ‘be okay,’ I don’t want to have to wait on this, or maybe dialysis. I want him to be standing here with us. I want to be at home with him, ready to leave to go fly to Kansa to spend our Friday night with Martha. I’ve been waiting for this day for sixteen years and I just want it to be done, and over, and a horrible memory.”

Bruce nodded. He pulled Lex over to a window that looked out over the street. There were thousands of people standing there, outside, waiting and Bruce said, “Look, he never disappoints a crowd. We all want him already recovered, or better yet, never hurt. It sucks Alex, it sucks that you have to wait through this but don’t be scared. He’s going to be okay. He has his whole family, and people all over the Earth rooting for him. Clark will wake up and just be embarrassed and apologetic that he scared us.” Lex nodded mutely and Bruce said, “I’m not placating you, Alex, I know he’s going to be fine. It might take days, possibly weeks, but he’s going to be back to himself soon enough. And then maybe he’ll give this up, have grown out of it. He’ll leave JLA and be safe with you. Maybe he’ll double his Supe efforts, who knows? But he will be fine.” 

“JLA? You mean the Super Awesome Friends League of the United States of Justice?” replied Lex.

“That too,” agreed Bruce with a small smile. Senator Pete Ross and his wife came into view in the streets below and Lex groaned. “Be nice, he’s Clark’s friend.”

“I’m always nice,” Lex said but he sounded petulant even to himself. He enjoyed watching Pete and Lana fight through the crowd. Pete looked like an adult, even from a distance. It seemed odd to Lex. He supposed being thirty-two could sit like adulthood on some men’s shoulders. Clark was still a kid who laughed inappropriately, ate with his elbows on the table, whined about having to get up in the morning. Just a kid who looked small and vulnerable, at six feet four, when naked on a white sterile bed and covered in the most dangerous substance possible.

Lex lapsed into silence then, watched Clark, accepted Pete’s hand shake mutely when the Rosses were admitted. Later Lois came in, chatting, filling them in on what the news said, asking after Clark. She was touching Lex’s shoulder and he understood that it was meant to be comforting but he didn’t much like the feeling. He didn’t like being touched by most people. He liked Lois, trusted her with Clark, but with his own body? No. Before he could say anything he heard Chloe speak, drawing her cousin away from her tactile assault on Lex’s person. 

He ate a second sandwich when Martha pressed him too, but otherwise, he just stood watching the machine’s progression. He waited out the hours, knew that people were talking around him, that he was failing at being host or whatever, but couldn’t talk to them. He heard the machine click off and was in the door before the doctors. He gently placed his hand on Clark’s chest, feeling the beat of his heart. Then he reached for a sterile cloth and gently wiped sweat and grime from the soft skin. He wanted to wash away the remnants of meteor even though he knew that Clark’s back was still full of the rock. Speaking softly, he told Clark that he was okay, that he was breathing on his own, that he would come out of this once his body got over the shock. He felt Martha’s hand on his arm and heard her telling him that they needed to leave, that the doctors were ready to turn Clark over and start the machine again. 

Lex had not even realized the others had entered the room. He allowed Martha to lead him out even though he wanted to stay by Clark’s side. He saw the doctors and aids lifting Clark and placing him on his stomach and he wanted to tell them to be careful even though he could already see that they were painstaking. “Lex, you’ve been here nearly thirteen hours,” Martha started and Lex interrupted.

“I’m not leaving. You’ve been here twelve.”

“No,” Martha agreed, “But maybe you should sit down.” He allowed himself to be pushed into a seat but then scooted it over to the window. 

“If today was normal,” Lex said, looking to Martha, “Clark and I would be leaving the farm right now. You’d be going to bed, and Clark and I would be somewhere over America.” 

A doctor came out of nowhere and introduced himself as the head of neurology. He told them that the rest of the patients on the wing had been relocated to give “Mr. Kent” privacy. He offered them the use of the rooms and beds, told them to make themselves at home that there was no question of visiting hours. He left assuring them that the best doctors in the capital were all watching Clark. After several more hours Lex found himself being pushed into bed by Bruce who was assuring him that he would personally wake Lex if there was any change in Clark’s condition. Lex allowed himself to be put to bed. He shut his eyes and felt himself being shaken awake. 

“How long was I out?” He asked.

Bruce, who clearly had yet to sleep, said, “The machine just turned off. He’s still out. I thought you’d want to see him.” 

Lex nodded, stood, walked through the hall in his sweats, and fell into one of the chairs next to Clark’s bed. He ran a hand over Clark’s face and kissed his cheek, “Hold in there,” he whispered, entwined their fingers, and allowed his head to droop onto the bed. He woke later as Bruce was placing Clark’s blue kryptonite necklace on the boy. Clark was wearing his pajama pants and Lex could almost believe that they were at Wayne manor, waking up after dancing, hung over with Bruce bringing them glasses of water.

“Martha is awake. Lois and she went to the cafeteria. The doctors want to start cleaning his blood. Martha said it would be okay.”

Lex nodded. “How long will it take?”

“To clean it twice? About six hours.”

“Will he be awake then?”

“They aren’t sure.”

Lex squeezed Clark’s hand gently and didn’t speak. The four women and Pete came in. Pete handed him a cup of coffee, which Lex took gratefully, with no little surprise. He wondered if the man had spat in it. He drank it anyway as doctors hooked Clark up to the dialysis machine. The machine made a whirling noise. Lex had seen Clark’s blood in the past, it was red, human, smelled like the ocean instead of like pennies, but human none the less. Now the blood looked muddy, as though green paint had been thrown into red. 

Lex stood calmly, but then rushed from the room. He made it as far as the outer trashcan before he started to vomit. Chloe rushed to him, “Lex!”

“That’s not the color of his blood.”

“You’ve seen his blood?” asked one doctor.

“There were sun spots, he cut his hand when slicing an orange. It should be red, looks human.”

“That was exposed to air, this is deoxygenated.”

“So expose it to air, it’s not right.” Martha brought him a glass of water. He sipped slowly and spat out the first few mouthfuls. “It should smell of seafood that’s been left out in the sun.”

One of the doctors reached for a hypodermic and drew a small amount of blood from a vein. He squirted it onto a slide and before the man could speak Lex warned, “You even think of looking at it under a microscope and we’re done here.” The blood was still brown and Lex reached for it, smelling it, it smelled of lemon. It wasn’t pleasant. It was meant to be basic not acidic. It was wrong. “He needs a saline drip.”

The noise reached them before they saw the chopper outside the window. The head of neurology came back into the room and was shouting to have the blinds shut but it was too late. They were all transfixed, staring at the helicopter. Lex looked away, knowing they were already screwed. He washed the blood down the sink as they shut the curtains. “How long before the midmorning papers go to print?”

“About a two hours, eight AM, on the stand by nine forty-five,” replied Lois and Chloe at the same time. 

“But that was a CNN helicopter,” said Bruce, “I’m sure it was live TV.”

Turning to the doctors Lex asked, “How long will it take to fully clean his blood?”

“About twelve hours,” said the head, he looked embarrassed.

“It’s not your fault,” said Lex. “The minute it’s daylight you need to open the curtains. He needs sun to heal... I hate the winter.” He considered their options. “We have twelve hours to do damage control. I’m going to admit to the lies, there’s no way to cover that. But, Chloe and Lois: you’re press and you’ve both written on Superman, this could land you in hot water. Pete and Lana, you’ve never made a single Superman comment so all you did was not disclose. Bruce, Martha, everyone needs to consider what they want to do.” He sniffed, “I’ll call a press conference about an hour after the midmorning papers hit the stands. Get some sleep, talk to me in about three hours.” He slipped his hand back into Clark’s and rested his head on the bed.

The next time Lex woke up he was alone with Clark. There was a vague light coming underneath the curtain. He moved to open the shades, pale morning filtered into the room and over Clark’s form. He studied his boy and said, “Clark, please wake up. If only for a moment. I need you, baby.” He sat back down, reclaimed the hand and said, “How am I supposed to be a Luthor and do a press conference when I don’t know if you’re alright? Please.”

The fingers in his hand twitched and Clark croaked, “Lex, don’t cry.”

Lex hit the call button next to Clark’s bed, “Baby, you okay?”

“Lex, I was filled shrapnel and my blood feels like poison. There’s still kryptonite in me.”

“That’s why they’re cleaning your blood,” Lex replied as Martha and a doctor rushed in.

“No, Lex,” Clark hand was weak and shaky but he picked up Lex’s and led it to the back of his head where there was a bump. “There’s a piece in my skull.”

“What happened?” asked Lex.

“A man was shouting at me in Mandarin, and my Mandarin sucks. He was angry and then he said he was giving me a huge jade vase. I couldn’t figure it out. He was so angry and then he was giving me a present. My Mandarin sucks. And it didn’t feel weird when they brought it in; didn’t hurt. And then it exploded and everywhere just hurt.”

“Thin layer of lead, I bet. How did you wake up just now?”

“I think it’s Kryptonian, I think it’s like a healing coma. But I heard you and you sounded… I’m okay. I think once they get this shard out of me and finish cleaning my blood I’ll be alright. I might need a few days on the beach.” He leaned forward and kissed Lex almost sleepily and then passed back out. 

Lex smiled, running his fingers through Clark’s hair again. He felt the protrusion of the shard and pushed his bangs away. “The beach,” he agreed. He felt the presence behind him and said, “Can you x-ray his skull? There’s a shard in his head.” He stood, straightened his shoulders, and turned. Seeing Martha, his shoulders fell and he said, “I didn’t know you were-”

“Did I miss anything?”

“He said it hurt, but that he was okay. He told me not to cry, he’s okay. I didn’t… If I thought he would wake up I would have come and got you.” Lab tecs came in and took Clark’s bed out of the room. 

“How did you?” she asked trailing off.

“I just said I needed him, I asked him to wake up for me.” He shook his head and said, “Have you considered what you want me to say for you at the press conference?”

“He’s my boy, I won’t disclaim him, Lex. And I’m not leaving you in front of all those people who are going to be angry. I’m going with you.” She squeezed his arm and he accepted it as a fact. “Lois and Chloe said they won’t back down, no one is hiding from this.”

“There’s a car coming in,” he looked at his watch. “A half hour. We should get dressed, coffee, whatever… my suit is gross.”

“Oh, Lex.”

“We have to call the press, say we’re all big fat liars and I’m going to be in yesterday’s suit.” Pete came in carrying two cups of coffee that he handed off. “Pete, you keep giving me coffee. Are you spitting in it?”

Pete laughed sadly and said, “Clark’s in a coma. Plus, I think we might be too old for it.”

“That’s comforting.” Lex smiled. “Have we got the papers?”

“Yes,” replied Lois. She threw the papers on the table. “It’s bad,” she warned.

The headlines and photos said it all. Some accused Lex of plotting. Others outright used the word “lie”. The Planet had the photo but said that it was good to see so many people at Superman’s bedside.

Lex studied them for a moment and said, “No worse than expected. Time to get dressed.” He went to the room where he had first slept and changed into a clean shirt, boxers, yesterday’s suit. He washed his face and downed his coffee. 

He met Martha out in the hall. She looked immaculate and like a mother goddess as always. He thought that if anything could save him from the anger of the masses it would be the image of Martha Kent. She took his arm gently and they moved through the hospital as a solid front. The car ride was silent but his hand remained in hers the whole time. Even as they stepped out onto the street and into the Lex Luthor Corp. D.C. building she kept a gentle hold on his hand.

In the main conference room hundreds of reporters were milling about. Lex gave them a vague wave, took a bottle of water, and went up to the stage. “Good morning. So you all know why we’re here. CNN can’t keep their noses out of other people’s business. They can’t even give Superman privacy. You’ve all seen the pictures. They clearly show Mrs. Kent, Lois Lane, the Rosses, the Waynes, and me standing around Superman’s bed. There have been some accusations that I’m trying to kill Superman. Others have said that Superman without a shirt looks a lot like my husband Clark Kent. In fact, he doesn’t look like him, but is identical.” He took a sip of water. 

“You really have very few options here. Either I’m very evil and inscrutable so I got into Superman’s room, Superman and Clark are twins, or I’m married to Superman. And then there’s the next set of options either I’m a fool who didn’t realize or I protected him for as long as possible. 

“Clark Kent’s family, friends, and I discussed this. He’s unconscious but we, as his family, have decided to tell the truth. There’s no such person as Superman. Superman is what Clark Kent is capable of not who he is. Superman was an invention devised by Clark and myself to allow him to lead his life and help people. Clark chose ‘Superman’ because he liked Nietzsche and thought it was funny to be self proclaimed as super. 

“The idea of Lex Luthor as an adversary is another invention. If Superman had one … nemesis others wouldn’t try to hurt him. We make it look like we’re fighting but he’s always safe. He was eighteen when he started this. He was a kid. He needed protection. I set myself up as his enemy because it separated Clark and Superman even more.

“His family has never wanted anything but Clark’s safety and anonymity. That was taken away by a helicopter. The only thing left is to ask you to please, not press him on this. Chloe Sullivan, Mrs. Wayne that is, and Lois Lane have been close to Clark for years. Chloe, the Rosses, and Clark grew up together. The two reporters covered for Clark. Because, while they are good, insightful, thorough journalists, they are better friends. 

“He wanted to help people and we wanted Clark safe. This was the compromise. He compromised by wearing a stupid outfit and looking incompetent as a reporter. To us, to me, he’s just Clark. Our Clark who makes us laugh, and is good, and kind. You may be angry, hurt, but Clark is unconscious and wounded. If you could keep yourself from crucifying him in words until he’s up and about that would be incredibly kind of you.” He took a long sip of water and said, “I can answer a few questions.”

He waited for the angry shouts but instead heard the gentle, “Mr. Luthor?” from somewhere in the center of the audience. 

“Yes.” He recognized the man, he reported for a paper in Metropolis.

“How’s your husband doing?” 

Lex smiled, gently, feeling his mask slip slightly. “He’s going to be alright. They’re cleaning his blood. There’s a shard of the rock in his skull that the doctors are removing. He woke up for a few moments this morning. He thinks he’s in a quote Kryptonian healing coma. If they get him free of the stone traces he’ll be fine in a few hours.”

“What exactly happened?”

“Well, as the world knows, he went to China to help out at a summit. Apparently someone was shouting at him in Mandarin and his Mandarin isn’t very good and then there was a gift of an exploding ‘jade’ vase that wasn’t jade at all.”

“His Mandarin is awful,” Martha injected. 

“True,” agreed Lex. “Not as bad as his French though, his French is atrocious.”

“How were you contacted?”

“Clark carries a phone that tells people to call us if he looks like he’s in real trouble. He’d been unconscious for a very long time before we arrived. Anyway, we need to get back. Thank you for your time. Have a good day.” He took Martha’s hand as they exited the rear. “Let’s stop and pick up Danishes and good coffee.” The limo stopped at a drive through Dunkin’ Doughnuts and still got them back to the hospital in under a half hour. 

They carried the coffee, doughnuts, and pastries and Lex was calling, “Morning, all. How’s our boy doing?” There was an impromptu waiting room forming outside of Clark’s room. People had pulled the most comfortable chairs they could find into a circle. Lex put the three boxes of doughnuts on the table as Martha put down the two boxes of coffee.

“He’s just come out of surgery. They removed the shard and all traces of it,” said Bruce.

“But they had to take him off the dialysis for the duration of the operation,” added Pete.

“He’ll be back in a moment,” Lois finished as she reached for a Boston crème. “We saw the press conference. Good job.” Lex rolled his eyes. “So are you and Clark going to move?”

“Why? Do you want an exclusive?” asked Lex. Lois, who’d been leaning in towards him pushed herself back into her seat. 

“Lex!” Martha admonished.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, Lois. That was uncalled for and mean. I should not be taking this out on you.”

“It’s okay, Lex. Are we still on for Thursday?”

“Of course. We’re always on for Thursday. Though, if Clark’s not awake, it’s just going to be you and me sniping at each other over Chinese take out.”

“Don’t worry,” Clark said as he came around the corner in his hospital bed, “I’m awake.”

“Clark!” Martha was over like a shot, pulling him close. “Oh, baby, I was so worried. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just a little shaky still. I’m sorry. I think I just need to get some sunshine.” He held her tightly, stroking her hair.

“But,” said the doctor, “we need to keep him here until he’s finished a round of dialysis. Three hours, tops.”

“I want to go home.” Clark pulled back from his mother.

“Clark, listen to the doctor,” Lex stood, trying to act nonchalant but he was shaking. “We’ll pull the bed right up to the window. We can play Risk!”

“No, not Risk! you get competitive. LIFE or Clue! whichever.” Clark gave a half pout at the situation but was still conceding. 

Chloe stood up, “Lois, Pete, Lana and I will go scavenge up a game from the children’s ward.” 

Watching them go Bruce said, “Always off on a search. If they find LIFE I want the beige car.”

“Fine with me, I want blue, if it’s Monopoly I want the iron,” said Clark, there was a slight croak to his voice. 

“Dibs on the white,” added Lex. “We might need teams.”

“Is this really what we’re talking about?” asked Martha. As they pulled Clark’s bed to the window and hooked up the dialysis machine.

“Right,” Lex agreed. “CNN had a chopper come by; they took pictures of all of us in here. I held a press conference, had to come clean. The press knows. There’s a lot of damage; they haven’t responded yet… You might want to write book, could stop questions.”

Clark blinked slowly. “I don’t want to write it right now, I still want the blue car… And a whole week on the beach. And can I have my drink when we get home?”

“I brought Tang powder; I figured you might need it. I’ll be right back,” Lex stood and went to find the cafeteria where he bought orange juice, Diet Coke, and a big cup. He passed Martha and Bruce who were pouring themselves cups of coffee. She smiled, Bruce waved, and he assumed that meant they were giving him a moment with Clark. Back in the room he pulled the Tang from his briefcase. He mixed the Tang and orange juice before topping it up with the Diet Coke. 

Lex held out the cup and said, “For the record it’s still disgusting.”

“Well, for the record, I nearly died.” The smile fell off Lex’s face. “Lex, I didn’t mean it like-”

“You’re not allowed to make that joke, Clark. You’re not allowed to nearly die and make any jokes at all. There’s nothing funny. You genuinely, literally, nearly died.” 

Clark put the drink on the window sill and pulled Lex up onto the bed. “I’m sorry, Lex. It was a gift.”

“Did the Trojan War teach you nothing? Greeks bearing gifts, Clark.”

“He was Chinese.”

“Not the point! Don’t take stuff from strangers. Someone offers you something you say ‘no’ especially when the supposed gift is green. You should run away. Run away at your speed, top speed. Okay?”

“Yes, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, you’re alive.” Clark leaned up and kissed him. “Love you, even when you taste of gross juice. Just try not to die on me, Clark, please, make the effort and it’ll be good enough, always.” Lex kissed him again as Chloe came in carrying LIFE. 

The rest of the morning and afternoon was spent going to college, working, getting married, having children. Lois won. Everyone decided to go to Smallville for a few days. They called into work, begging off saying, “Well the news was right. This is a bit of a family emergency. Right, yes.” No one could argue with Superman’s family taking the weekend and Monday off. Clark’s blood was cleaned until there was nothing but him left in it. The doctors insisted on giving Clark a full check up.

“Mr. Kent, we understand your desire for secrecy and anonymity. We will destroy all of your medical records. But we respectfully ask to give you a physical. The destruction of your records is not contingent upon your consent to an examination.” 

Clark started to shake his head but Martha said, “Maybe it would be a good idea, Clark.” 

Clark rolled his eyes. “Fine, I’m fine, but whatever.”

They started with his reflexes which were too fast. They moved on to his temperature, too high. His heartbeat was too slow. His blood pressure was low. His vision was better than anyone’s possibly could be. 

After a half hour of this Clark said, “This is like sending a canary to a doctor. It just doesn’t work. I’m fine. But I’m not human. You can’t do people tests on me; I’m not people.” 

He picked up a leaf of blank paper. He set it on fire with his eyes, then froze it with his breath, He hovered above the floor, picked up the bed with one hand, announced that a girl on the street below was discussing how to hide a failing grade in geometry from her parents, told the doctor that he had broken his left big toe at some point because Clark could see the heal in the bone. “So are we done? I’m fine. I want to go to Kansas, spend a few days on my family farm, then go to the beach, and move on from this.”

Lex pulled out clean clothes for Clark including his favorite blue tee shirt and red button down. As Clark dressed Lex said, “We’re going to take the corporation jet. I don’t want you flying cross country as the sun’s setting after all this.”

Clark shrugged and then kissed Lex again, “I’m sorry you had to deal with the press alone.”

“Your mom came with me.” Lex ran his hands down Clark’s red cloth covered arms. “There are press out there now. Do you want to skip out the back?”

“No,” Clark breathed in, pushing into Lex’s hands, before sitting down to tie his shoes. He pointed at his feet and said, “I want to walk out there in my sneakers and be me for once.”

“Okay, the car is waiting for us so, when you’re ready.”

Clark stood. “I am. Let’s go.” The elevator ride was silent and finally Clark said, “Are we all good to do this?” 

There was laughter, the nervous quiet suddenly dead. “What’s the difference between a bag of dead babies and a Ferrari?” asked Pete. 

“Tasteless,” Chloe started as Lana elbowed him in the rib.

“What?” asked Clark wanting to cut off Chloe’s rant. Clark liked dead baby jokes, just so long as they weren’t graphic. 

“No matter what the newspapers might say tomorrow: Lex doesn’t have a bag of dead babies in the garage.” There was weak laughter.

“True, I keep them in the freezer,” Lex agreed. That garnered more laughter. 

Feeling light headed Clark walked out into the day light and was hit with flashes of light. There were shouted questions and thousands of faces staring at them. While Clark could hear the individual questions he was slightly too surprised to answer any of them. He’d expected reporters, but not so many people. He had been too busy staring up at the sun, while in bed, to notice the huge crowd in the streets around the hospital. He started to raise his hand to wave but realized his hand was locked in Lex’s. Smiling down at their entwined fingers he raised his left hand instead. Finally taking in the crowd, he waved exuberantly and shouted, “I’m really okay. Thanks, everyone!” 

A stretched limo pulled up and Clark raised an eyebrow as he climbed in. “A stretched?” he asked Lex.

“All those journalists are going to follow us. I’m much rather we didn’t get separated on the way to the airport. We needed to fit eight people into the back of one car. Ergo, a stretched.” 

Clark laughed and curled against Lex in one of the corners. “Y’know,” he said, “I think this is possibly the best near death situation that could have happened.” 

“You don’t need your cell phone now,” Lex said. In some ways he was very glad the world knew. He could still protect Clark. Anybody stupid enough to want to mess with Superman probably wasn’t also stupid enough to mess with Lex and vice versa.

“Then how will I talk to you when flying over the Atlantic?”

It was a good question, short of telepathy, Lex didn’t have an answer.


End file.
